Kill 'em With Kindness
by One Small Monkey
Summary: If they're as annoying as all that, wouldn't Shredder and Krang use them if they could? Of course they would. My first humor piece in about ten years...hopefully you can still detect the humor...
1. The Beginning Part

AUTHOR NOTES

I've never written a story in this style before. Hopefully, it has the desired effect.

Legal blah-blah-blah. I quote a posting from Wikipedia in chapter three, but made some alterations to fit the storyline better. Hope you all can forgive me. I also quote the back of an action figure box in chapter one. Copyright Playmates, used without permission, etc etc.

I didn't have a beta-reader for this story, but I do need to thank kayalizzie. I ran the story idea by her, and based on her enthusiasm, went ahead with it. She was invaluable at providing feedback on several key plotpoints, as well. Thanks, kl! "Across the vast emptiness online..."

"Shut UP, Gerald!"

-----

It was a top-of-the-line office chair, which is probably why it simply groaned under Bebop's weight rather than collapsing. Bebop tossed his huge bag of Xtremely Hot Doritos to the left of the monitor, and clunked down his large mug of Mountain Dew Code Red to the right. He had earned himself a bit of free time, having finished his chores before Rocksteady finished his. Of course, that wasn't much of a surprise on this particular day. Rocksteady had drawn the worst job of all – power-washing the Technodrome exterior. That was a job that usually took all day. Assuming either of them could focus on the task that long. As it was, Krang was satisfied if they could finish it the same week they started.

Until recently, Bebop spent every second of his free time vegging in front of the TV. That was before Shredder had introduced him to the wonders of the Internet. Well, not all the wonders - just the fact that new episodes of DumDum Dog were posted online every week. Bebop loved DumDum Dog. He could watch him all day. He was so dumb. And so funny.

He grabbed the mouse and clicked opened the Internet browser. While waiting for the main page to load (something Krang created which displayed current conditions in and around the Technodrome - BORING!), he reached into the bag of chips, pulled out a handful, and shoved them in his mouth. Yow, those were hot - xtremely so! Bebop lunged for his drunk, but his fist clumsily struck the mug and tilted it backwards a bit, sending a small cascade of red soda over the rim and onto the back of the computer. There was a short sizzling sound, a sudden flash of light...and then all was calm again, save for a tiny wisp of white smoke coming up from the back of the computer.

Bebop pulled his glasses down his nose and looked around. Nobody was there. And nobody appeared to be coming. Apparently, nobody had noticed. He quickly scurried to the opposite side of the room, and began fumbling around the small workbench. He dug up a small rag, ran back to the computer, and mopped up the soda the best he could.

Geez, he thought, when Master Shredder finds out about this...

But, much to his surprise, the computer seemed fine. The monitor was still on. The website was open and running. Hesitantly, Bebop moved the mouse around, and watched as the arrow moved around with it. Everything still seemed functional. He breathed a huge sigh of relief, then chose "DumDum Dog" from the list of "favorites".

404 - File Not Found

Bebop stared at the screen, confused. He tried selecting the link again, but got the same result. Thinking back, he remembered Shredder telling him that this happened sometimes with websites, usually when the website was getting updated. That thought didn't exactly lift his spirits, though. He wanted his DumDum Dog fix! Well, he'd try again in a little bit. What could he do in the meantime? What else could he look at on the computer?

Well, he could do an image search for his name. He had tried that once before, but the results had been disappointing. Not a single picture of him, but lots of old musicians. And no good musicians, either - they were all old black-and-white photos of jazz guys named Charlie and Miles. Who cared about that sort of stuff? Still, maybe he'd get lucky this time. Using his pinky finger, and typing really carefully (his big fingers weren't exactly ideal for typing), he entered "bebop" into the search engine, then hit the return button.

Bebop's eyes grew wide. There he was!

Oh was it? He flipped up his glasses and leaned in close to get a better look. Well, it didn't look precisely like him. It wasn't a photo - it was a drawing. But it certainly was a mutant warthog, with glasses, mohawk, and everything. And right beneath it, it said "Bebop".

Bebop grinned - he was famous! He clicked on the picture, and another drawing came up. Hey, this one was of him and Rocksteady. Neat! That'd look really cool on the door to their room. Remembering what Shredder had taught him (nine or ten times), he clicked on the picture and printed it out. He got up, grabbed his chips, drink and picture, and headed out the door, whistling.

Coming the other way in the hallway was the Shredder. His mask was off, displaying his obviously peeved expression to the world. Bebop decided he'd try to cheer him up.

"Hey, boss," he said. "Lookit this pitcher!" He held up the picture for Shredder to see.

Shredder rolled his eyes. He was having a bad enough day. Krang had been breathing down his neck, wanting him to come up with yet another grand scheme to get the turtles out of the way. Now he had to take time out to play "good-job-son" to his hapless henchman? He glanced down at the picture, and was somewhat surprised - it was a lot better than he thought Bebop could ever do.

"You drew this?"

"Nah, it was da computer."

"You drew it on the computer?"

"No! It was on da Innernet."

He handed the picture back, and started walking away when a tiny pang of worry fired in his brain. There was a drawing of Bebop and Rocksteady online? Why? And if there was a picture of them...might there also be other information on them? And maybe on Krang and himself? This might not be good. "Wait," said the Shredder, pulling up short. "Show me."

Bebop nervously took him back into the computer room, and once again did the search for "bebop". "See?" he said, pointing at the screen. "Right here." Shredder stared at the picture for a second, then waved Bebop away from the keyboard. He sat down, clicked into the search engine, typed "shredder" and hit return. Once the results came up, Shredder stared at them, his jaw slowly dropping.

Drawings. Photos. Pencil sketches. 3-D renderings. All of him.

Bebop finally broke the silence. "Hey," he said, pointing. "Dere's even a Shredder doll!"

Horrified, Shredder clicked on the link. And once the page opened, he felt his blood chill. Which was worse? The fact that the page said, as clear as day, "Oruku Saki is the Shredder!"? Or the fact that his action figure was packaged in a bright green box with a picture of the four turtles above, and the words "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" emblazoned below?

Shredder finally tore his eyes away from the page, and grabbed his communicator. "Krang!" he bellowed into it. "Get into my office! Now!"

Throwing his head back, Shredder drained the last of his coffee, then blearily stared at the computer monitor. He had been camped out in this room for almost twenty-four hours. As he and Krang had checked out website after website, one thing became clear - this computer had somehow linked somewhere else, to some alternate reality. The search results never matched the ones on Shredder's laptop, or any of the other computers in the Technodrome. And wherever this thing was linked to, they had tons of information on not just him, but on the turtles as well. Shredder had been determined to tap this information source for all it was worth. If ever there was an opportunity to find out something about the turtles, this was it. But after almost an entire day of web-surfing, taking notes, and occasionally throwing things at the wall, he felt whipped. This wasn't turning out the way he had hoped.

He sighed, then, glancing quickly at the door to see if anyone was coming, went back to the first website he had visited. After staring at the picture for a minute, he reached for the phone and dialed.

"Hello, Toys R Us?" he said, quietly. "I was phoning to see if you had any of those stunning Shredder action figures in stock...Shredder...S-H-R-E-D-D-E-R...Yes! Like the office tool!...It's manufactured by Playmates." Shredder winced as he said that last word. "Yes...Well..." He paused, then set his teeth. "It's part of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle line." He suddenly hardened and looked down at the receiver. "Never heard of it? Well, see if I patronize your establishment again!"

Shredder disconnected the line, then gave a start, as he saw Krang standing in the doorway, smirking. "Uh, just...seeing if it's...real."

"Suuuuure." Krang entered the room and indicated the computer. "Have you found out anything?"

"Too much."

Krang looked confused. "What do you mean, Saki?"

Shredder leaned back in his chair and rubbed his face. "Look, you saw how much information there was on the turtles here. So I figured I'd try to find out something simple - the location of their lair."

"And you still haven't found out?"

Picking up his notepad, Shredder glanced over it. "Well, I've gotten it narrowed down. They either live in an abandoned warehouse, an abandoned subway station, an unused section of the sewer system under the city, an abandoned floor of a skyscraper, a refurbished Victorian house, or in a fortress built on top of the Empire State Building which is kept hidden from view by supernatural means."

Krang tried to process that, but failed. "Huh?"

"Believe it or not, those are the more believable ones." Shredder tossed the notebook down next to Krang and sighed. "To be honest, Krang, I'm starting to believe we're being had."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because it doesn't make sense, that's what." He started idly clicking through pictures again. "I must have seen thousands of pictures - of them and of us. I've seen children's drawings, animation cels, even movie clips."

"I'm in a movie?" said Krang, trying not to sound too eager.

"I am. You're not."

"I'm not?" said Krang, now abandoning all attempt to sound disinterested. "Why not?"

"Not sure. Maybe they had trouble casting the role of the disembodied brain from another dimension?" On seeing Krang's reaction, he quickly added, "Don't feel bad. I think they hired some sushi chef to play me - he couldn't beat the lowest Foot soldier in hand-to-hand combat. The guy's puny. And from the looks of his costume, you'd think he was headed to a low-rent S&M disco." He tapped his fingers on the desk and shook his head. "You know what? I don't think we exist."

"What?"

Shredder waved his hand at the screen. "There. Wherever we're tapped into. I don't think we exist there. Look at it - comics, movies, cartoons...but no us. Not a single photo of us or the turtles anywhere. Not a single news item about the Foot, or the mayhem we've caused. Nothing."

"Then what's all this stuff?"

"No idea." He shrugged. "Maybe we're fictional characters. Maybe in this world, a couple dorks dreamed us up. Wish we could sue them for royalties - they're probably loaded." He slapped the desk and painfully got to his feet. "I'm done. No more." He headed for the door.

"What do you mean?" Krang look peeved. "There must be important information in there somewhere."

Shredder jerked his thumb over his shoulder, careful to avoid the blades there. "Well, if you think you can dig it up amidst all the Ninja Turtle birthday party kits and Ninja Turtle bike reflectors, by all means, enjoy yourself. I'm going to bed."

Krang watched him leave, then turned back to the computer. Maybe Saki was right. Maybe it wasn't worth it. Krang shook his host body's head. No. No, this was too good an opportunity to pass up. Certainly, there had to be something of worth on here. And Krang was resolved to find it, even if it took all day.

------

It took more than all day - it took five.

It wasn't exactly a smoking gun, either. No huge damning piece of evidence, no huge flashing arrow pointing at some turtle Achilles heel. Just a little nothing he read in a story. He hardly even noticed it. But it gave Krang the slightest hint of an idea, which took seed and began growing, until suddenly, it all seemed clear.

Yes! Of course!

"Saki!" Krang commanded into his communicator. "Get in here!"

It took some time - he was at the other end of the Technodrome - but Shredder finally arrived in the room. "So?" he asked. "You finally ready to admit defeat?"

"Not in your lifetime, Saki," said Krang. He indicated the chair in front of the computer. "Sit. Read."

Shredder sat down, tried to get comfortable (his cape tended to bunch up when he sat in office chairs), and began reading. It took about three sentences for a frown to appear on his face. It took about three paragraphs for the frown to turn to an expression of disgust. He managed two more paragraphs before turning to face Krang.

"This is nauseating," he said simply.

"Keep reading," ordered Krang.

Slowly, almost painfully, he turned back to the monitor and willed himself to continue. From time to time, he'd squirm uncomfortably in his chair, or mutter something under his breath. Finally, agonizingly, he finished. He turned slowly once again to face Krang.

"So?" asked Krang. "What do you think?"

"Well," he said finally, "I guess I'm grateful for the spelling mistakes, because they helped take my mind off the wretched story. Now why, in the name of all that is evil, did you make me read that monstrosity?"

Krang scanned the screen, then tapped a finger against one word. "This."

"That was the worst part."

Flashing a grin even more evil than normal, Krang said, "Yes. I know."

Shredder didn't see where this was going. "Well, what about it?"

Again tapping the screen, he said, "There's more where that came from. Hundreds more."

"Yeah? So?"

Krang rubbed his tentacles together in glee. "You'll see, Saki. You'll see."


	2. The Early Middle Part

Donatello took a swig of his water, then, placing the bottle next to him, leaned back on his hands and let his feet dangle off the edge of the building. It'd been a slow patrol night - again - and he and Raphael had decided to take a quick break. He looked up at the sky, like he often did, and tried to spy some stars.

"Penny for your thoughts," said Raphael, who was sitting cross-legged next to him at the edge. Donatello turned to face him, and held out his hand, palm up. Raphael frowned. "Well, I guess I'll have to owe you, actually."

Donatello smiled crookedly. "Don't worry. I'm not even sure they're worth the penny."

"Fork 'em over anyway."

Pulling one leg up and wrapping his arms around it, Donatello said, "Well, I was thinking about Michelangelo."

Raphael made a rude sound with his lips. "You're right. Not worth it. In fact, you may owe me now."

Donatello smiled. "Just thinking about him chatting with that clerk at the grocery store a couple days ago. You know, after we busted up the robbery there."

"Idiot," Raphael muttered.

"What's that?"

Raphael shook his head. "Mikey talks too much. He thinks he can trust every single human he comes across, and let's face it - humans can't be trusted."

"What about April?"

"See, that's what Mikey always says - 'what about April?'." Raphael's imitation of Michelangelo brought another smile to Donatello's face. "That's like saying because one lottery ticket wins you money, they all do. We got real lucky when we stumbled on her. She's cool - she understands. That ain't the way most humans are. Most humans'd rather shoot us on sight, or maybe chop us up for science."

"Raph, come on."

"No, I'm serious. Humans are bad news. And Michelangelo won't stop chatting with them, and acting like it's no big deal. I'm telling ya - that brother of ours is gonna get us into big trouble one of these days."

Donatello smirked. "You know how much you sound like Leonardo when you say that?"

Raphael gave a start. "Wow, you're right. I do." He looked worried. "Ten bucks if you don't tell the others."

"Ten bucks?" Donatello laughed. "You couldn't even afford the penny!"

"I'll owe it to ya," Raphael pleaded.

"Deal. I'll add it to your tab." Donatello got to his feet, then helped pull Raphael up. "Let's say we split up, make one more pass, then call it a night."

"Sounds like a plan."

Donatello rearranged his bo on his back. "Cool - I'll take west, you take east?" Raphael nodded, and Donatello pointed. "Buzz me if you need back-up."

Raphael smirked. "I should be saying that to you." Before Donatello could answer, Raphael had taken off running, leaping to the building next door and running at top speed towards the east.

Donatello watched him go, shaking his head and smiling. He proceeded to head west, at a somewhat more leisurely pace. Things had been fairly quiet over the last week or two, and Donatello, for one, was happy for the change. Patrols were knocking off early, and he got to spend more time with his tools and broken machinery.

A sharp cry from a neighboring alleyway brought his mind back to the present. He quickly changed course, and came to a stop at the top of small apartment building. Below, a Foot soldier had a woman cornered in the alleyway. Just one? Donatello thought idly, but he pulled out his bo, leapt down into the alley, and knocked the Foot soldier flat with one shot across the back of the head.

Ordinarily, in circumstances like this, Donatello would give a friendly wave or salute, then scurry out of sight. He had in fact started to do so, but something about the would-be victim made him stop. Maybe it was the way the streetlights reflected off of her glasses. Or perhaps it was the rather proud way she stood there - self-assured, so unlike most other attack victims he came across. She was young - maybe twenty - with her straight blonde hair pulled back into a no-nonsense sort of style that still managed to look stunning. Her face was radiant, and Donatello found himself staring at her lips - friendly, unencumbered by lipstick, and pulled into a grateful smile.

"Thanks," said the lips.

Donatello stared dumbly at her for a couple seconds. "Oh," he finally said. "Yeah. Sure. No problem. You're welcome."

Again, Donatello fell into a reverie, taking this human in. She was dressed in a grey collared shirt, not quite buttoned all the way, which enabled Donatello to see the white T-shirt underneath. It was a bit strange to see running shoes at the end of her black slacks, but considering what one might run into here on the streets, Donatello thought the choice very intelligent.

The lips spoke again. "So...do you have a name?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Sure. It's Donatello."

"Hi, Donatello. I'm Mary. Mary Sue." She held out her hand with absolutely no trace of discomfort. Donatello, however, looked extremely uncomfortable as he took the hand and awkwardly shook it. He quickly pulled his hand away, even though what he really wanted to do was shake the hand awkwardly all night.

Mary Sue picked up the purse that she had dropped, and reached inside it. "So, Donatello," said Mary Sue. "You live around here?" Donatello just nodded dumbly, and Mary Sue smiled again. "Would you like to show me?"

Donatello's nods suddenly became head shakes. "Uh, no. No, I couldn't. I mean, it's...far off, and it's...a mess, and...my brothers..."

Apparently giving up on finding what she was looking for, Mary Sue slung the purse over her shoulder. "That's OK," she said, giving a knowing smile. "I understand. After all, we just met." The smile turned a bit slyer. "But maybe later?"

"Uh...maybe..." Donatello couldn't get his brain to function. Why was this woman being so nice to him? Actually, he was pretty sure he was getting hit on, although his experience in this area was somewhat limited.

"Would you like to take a walk?" Mary Sue suggested.

"Well, actually, I...gotta go meet my brother...now..."

Mary Sue put her hand on Donatello's shoulder, and he felt himself go soft all over. Well, not quite all over. "Can I walk with you?"

"Uh, sure. I guess. If you want."

Donatello began walking, and Mary Sue put her arm around his, causing Donatello to stumble a bit. Mary Sue, smiling, helped him regain his footing, and they walked out of the alley together.

"Thanks again for saving me, Donatello. I was just coming home from a study session, and I lost all track of time."

She's a student? thought Donatello, feeling himself melt a bit more. "What are you studying?"

"I've been working on my thesis on the endochronic properties of resublimated thiotimoline."

Donatello looked over her in shock. "Are you kidding?"

"No - why?"

Tapping himself on the chest with his free hand, Donatello said earnestly, "I've been working with resublimated thiotimoline for over a year. I keep hitting a brick wall on it, though - I can't get the dissolution rate to increase, no matter what I try."

Mary Sue gave him a thoughtful look. "What have you tried?"

"Almost everything. I even tried suspending the powder in a pure phlogiston bath - it didn't alter a thing."

"Well, you sound really smart, Donatello. I'm sure you'll come up with something." She smiled. "Maybe we can get together and...compare notes sometime?"

Donatello nodded and smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, that sounds like fun. But we probably should pick some other time to do it. And probably some other place. You know, actually, you probably shouldn't be out in this part of town this late at night. It can get awfully dangerous."

Mary Sue smiled. "Don't worry about that," she said. She pulled her arm free of Donatello and, bringing her hands up quickly, crouched down briefly into an attack pose. "I can take care of myself."

Donatello grinned back. Wow, she not only was an advanced chemistry student, but she knew martial arts, as well! This Mary Sue certainly was quite a woman! But something began nagging at the back of his head. Something didn't make sense. What was it? His brain felt all foggy. Why couldn't he figure it out? Voices from an upcoming alley caused him to come back to the here and now.

"...shoulda seen us. We were plowing through them Foot soldiers one by one..."

"Wow, wish I was there with my katana. I woulda loved to taken out some of them myself."

Donatello turned the corner and was shocked to see Raphael laughing along with a woman. She was rather short, with short dark hair, dressed in a black leather outfit that didn't leave much to the imagination. Not that Donatello's imagination didn't immediately kick in, anyway.

Spying his brother and his newfound friend, Raphael's laughter died away, and he was left looking somewhat embarrassed. The woman next to him turned to the newcomers with a questioning look.

"Uh...who's this?" asked Donatello.

Waving his hand a bit, Raphael said, "Ah, she was getting attacked by a Foot soldier..."

The thing that had been nagging at Donatello suddenly leapt front and center, and he felt himself start going cold. "And Raphael came to your rescue?" he said, trying to keep his voice level.

The woman looked at Raphael and flashed a smile that even Donatello felt, even though he was still almost ten feet away. "Yes." She put her hand on his shoulder, and Donatello could see his brother react to her touch. "Thank you."

Raphael gave her a crooked smile back. "No problem, Mary Sue. Anytime."

"Mary Sue?" echoed Donatello. He turned to the blonde standing next to him. "That's your name, right?"

Mary Sue - the blonde - nodded and smiled. "Yep. That's sort of a coincidence, isn't it?"

Donatello leapt forward and grabbed his brother's wrist. "Come on," he said.

"What?" Raphael looked peeved, and the two women didn't seem too pleased, either.

Placing himself about an inch from Raphael's face, Donatello said, "Please, Raph. Please trust me. We've got to get out of here. Fast." Raphael turned to look at Mary Sue - the dark-haired one - but Donatello's hand came up and forced his brother to face him. "No. Don't look at her. Just follow me. Please." He turned and started walking out of the alley, dragging Raphael behind him.

"Wait - where we goin'?" asked a perplexed Raphael.

"Anywhere. Just away from here."

"Hey, wait for us," said one of the Mary Sues, and, as Donatello feared, he heard footsteps following.

"That's it," said Donatello. "Run for it!" He let go of Raphael's wrist and made a break for it, running at full speed down the street before scooting down another alley.

Raphael was just as confused as before, but figured, hey, Don was the smart one. If he said run, he'd best run. He took off, a few steps behind his brother. Upon entering the alleyway, he saw Donatello climbing a fire escape as fast as he could. He leapt up, grabbed the bottom of the ladder and began climbing up behind his brother. From below, he heard a clattering sound as someone else jumped on the fire escape. The girls were following.

Uh-oh, he thought.

Raphael decided that since Donatello had led him out of this potentially dangerous situation, he'd best continue following him. He still had no idea what was going on, and he didn't want to screw up the escape by deviating from whatever plan Donatello might have. He followed him from rooftop to rooftop, finally bounding back down to street level by leaping back and forth between two closely aligned fire escapes. Donatello then led him back to the street, where he threw himself down onto the asphalt and slid into the sewers at a spot where the sidewalk had opened up. Raphael followed, dropping himself back into the familiar sewers. Donatello didn't stop, but continued down the sluice in complete darkness until they had run another two blocks. Then, finally, Donatello pulled up short. Raphael, not seeing this, smacked into him fairly hard with a loud "oof".

For about thirty seconds, neither of them spoke. They just leaned against the wall of the sewers and panted, trying to get their breath back. Finally, Raphael looked over at his brother in the almost complete darkness, and said, "OK, genius. What the heck was all that?"

Donatello straightened up, swallowed hard, and held out his hands. "Don't ask me," he said. "I don't have any idea. But it wasn't right."

"So what made you wanna cut 'n' run?"

Donatello found the small flashlight he kept on his belt. Turning it on, he began leading the way down the sluice. "Well, I had this feeling that something was wrong, but I didn't figure it out until I heard your Mary Sue tell me what happened."

"How so?" asked Raphael, who had fallen in step behind him.

"She said you saved her from a Foot soldier?"

"Yeah, so what? I did."

"Actually, I'm not so sure you did."

"What are you talking about? Of course I did."

"How'd you take him out?"

"Roundhouse sidekick."

"Just one?"

"Yeah, it was a good one."

"You're telling me you took a Foot soldier completely out of commission with just one roundhouse sidekick?"

There was a pause before Raphael answered, very defensively, "Donatello, it was a really really good roundhouse sidekick."

"When I walked up, wasn't your Mary Sue talking about wishing she could take a katana to some Foot soldiers?"

"Yeah, so? She can do it - she's a martial arts expert."

"I know - so was mine. So how come they were crying for help when they were attacked by only one Foot soldier?" Raphael didn't answer, so Donatello pressed on. "I can't speak for yours, but mine was just sitting there looking helpless when I showed up. But the pose she struck for me later sure looked like she knew what she was doing. She should've been able to give your average Foot soldier a run for his money."

"So...what? You think we got set up?"

"That's my guess. When's the last time you saw a Foot soldier working alone?"

"Hm. But what were the setting us up for? Were these girls tryin' to...seduce us?" Raphael's voice sounded embarrassed as he finished the sentence.

"Actually, yeah. Something like."

"Oh, come on, brainiac."

"Listen, Raph. You told me...what? Not an hour ago that humans couldn't be trusted. You were giving Mikey a hard time just for talking with a friendly grocery clerk. And yet there you are, chatting it up with some woman you just met."

Again, Raphael's voice took on a defensive tone. "She was interesting."

"I know. So was mine. Too interesting. I couldn't stop staring at her. I couldn't think straight. I don't know what it is, but she was messing with my mind somehow."

They reached the entrance of the lair, and entered to find Michelangelo sitting on the couch pouting. He gave his brothers a glance as they entered. "Oh, look who finally came home," he huffed.

"We...got sidetracked," said Donatello lamely. "What's the matter?"

"Leonardo's being a Splinter's boy, that's what."

"How so?" asked Raphael.

"Oh, I saved this girl up in an alleyway, and Leo got all on my case just 'cause I was talkin' with her..."

Donatello interrupted him. "Mary Sue?"

Michelangelo brightened up. "Yeah - you know her?" Donatello and Raphael shared a look, then immediately headed back further into the lair. "Hey, where you going?" asked Michelangelo, but neither of them answered.

Donatello stopped in the doorway of Splinter's room. Splinter and Leonardo were sitting in lotus position, meditating. Donatello paused, but decided this couldn't wait. "Sensei, Leo?" he said quietly. Leonardo snapped his eyes open and threw some visual daggers at his brother, whereas Splinter just opened his right eye and looked at Donatello questioningly. This one-eyed look always freaked Donatello out, but not today - he had other things on his mind. "Sorry to interrupt your nothingness, Sensei, but I think we've got a big problem."

Splinter opened both his eyes, then rearranged himself on his cushion somewhat. "What is the problem, my son?"

Nodding at Leonardo, Donatello asked, "You know that girl that Michelangelo was talking to in the alley?"

Leonardo now looked utterly peeved. "Yeah?"

"Raph and I each met one, too."

"Met one what?"

"A girl. Being attacked by a Foot soldier. Named Mary Sue."

Splinter looked puzzled. "Mary Sue? That is a peculiar name for a Foot soldier."

Donatello groaned. "No, Sensei, the girls. All three of them were named Mary Sue."

Leonardo stretched his legs out. "That sounds fishy."

"That's not the half of it. I can't speak for Mikey's girl, but ours were..."

Donatello's voice trailed off, but Splinter hazarded a guess based on his expression. "...intriguing?"

Nodding, Donatello said, "Extremely."

Splinter turned his head and looked out at his son from the corner of his eyes. "Indeed?"

"It was weird. We couldn't keep our eyes off them. They were fascinating. Mine said she had been doing research on resublimated thiotimoline..."

Interrupting, Leonardo said, "Wait a minute - I thought you said that was an extremely obscure chemical."

"I know! But she said she was doing research on the same stuff. Plus she knew martial arts, and...what the shell is that sound?"

"I was going to ask you that," said Leonardo, getting to his feet.

Over the last minute or so, a bizarre buzzing or grinding noise had been getting louder. It seemed to be coming from the front of the lair, so everyone headed out in that direction. Michelangelo was still sitting on the couch, arms crossed, but even he looked confused.

"What's that noise?"

"That's what we're gonna find out," said Leonardo. "Come on."

Leonardo led the way into the sluice, with his three brothers in tow. After taking a second to figure out the direction of the noise, they headed further down into the sewers. The further they went, the louder it got until it seemed to be almost on top of them. Leonardo finally stopped and looked at the others in confusion, not knowing what to do or say. As it ended up, he didn't need to do or say anything, as suddenly the ground began breaking beneath them.

"Scatter!" Leonardo yelled. Although his voice couldn't be heard over the din, it didn't matter - their training kicked in even without hearing his command. The turtles took off, heading back up the sluice, then leaping up to grab on to nearby ladders. The ground continued to crumble, until suddenly a small cone of metal poked through the rubble. The cone grew taller and wider, and finally the entire transport module broke through and came to a halt in the middle of the sluice.

One by one, the turtles dropped down next to the module and drew their weapons, preparing for battle. After a pregnant pause, the module door opened and revealed a figure to the waiting mutants. It wasn't a Foot Soldier, or Bebop, or Rocksteady, or the Shredder, or even Krang.

It was a girl.


	3. The Late Middle Part

"Hi!" the girl said, stepping out of the module. "Wow, that trip wasn't as smooth as I'd hoped." The girl removed her helmet, revealing a well-groomed afro. She sort of patted her head, smiled, and unzipped her leather jumpsuit a bit. She turned back towards the module to toss her helmet inside, but was distracted by the sight of the sewage now pouring down the hole she had created. "Yikes. Shredder and Krang aren't gonna be too happy when that hits bottom."

All four turtles stared dumbly at her in the half-light. "Where did you come from?" Leonardo managed to blurt out.

"The Technodrome. I kind of borrowed this transport module, thinking I could get here quicker this way. Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners?" She gave them all a smile in the half-light. "I'm Mary Sue."

It took all his might, but Leonardo managed to tear his eyes away and stare down at his feet. Gritting his teeth, he attempted to get his brain back on track. "Introduce yourselves," he muttered to his brothers.

"Uh, hi," said Raphael. "I'm Raphael."

"Donatello," said Donatello, rubbing the back of his head nervously.

"I'm Michelangelo, the cute one," said Michelangelo in his most ingratiating voice. "And this sourpuss over here is Leonardo."

"Yaaaaah!" Leonardo gave a yell and leapt forward, aiming a kick straight at Mary Sue's midsection. Mary Sue dodged to the side and delivered a blow of her own to Leonardo's shell. Leonardo rolled with the blow and landed on his side, but immediately leapt up and pressed the attack. As his brothers watched, unable to move, he made attack after attack, all while attempting to avoid eye contact. Finally, with a feint towards one side, he managed to slice Mary Sue in the midsection with the blade of his katana. She looked up at him, with a mixture of surprise and hurt. Then, to the shock and disgust of the turtles, she melted into a pool of dark blue goo. The turtles remained frozen to the spot, staring at what remained of their adversary.

Raphael was the first one to speak. "OK, what the shell just happened?"

Leonardo took an unsteady breath. "I don't know. But I guess my hunch is right. Something was severely wrong."

"How'd you know?"

"Same way Donatello did earlier tonight," he said, attempting to shake the sticky substance off of his katana. "She was messing with my brain. It took all my might to look away from her."

"But what was she? And what happened to her?" said Michelangelo, eyeing the bluish puddle.

Donatello knelt down. "Well, I can't tell without doing a ton of tests. But this blue stuff might be cloning material."

"What's that?"

Donatello reached out as if to touch the puddle, but then thought better of it. "Well, in order to make clones, you need some material to make them out of. And from what I've read about cloning processes, if you make them on the cheap, they revert back to their original state once they cease functioning."

"You mean, once they're killed," said Raphael.

"Well, yeah, I guess."

"So that's what we're up against?" asked Michelangelo. "Hardened batches of Liquid Tide named Mary Sue? What's that all about?"

"I don't know," admitted Leonardo. "Let's get back to the lair, regroup and figure out our next move here."

"Good idea," said Donatello, getting to his feet.

"Wait a second. We can't just leave this thing here," said Leonardo, eyeing the transport module.

"Why not?" asked Michelangelo.

"It's less than half a mile from the lair. If the city finds it here, they might start nosing around, and I don't think we can afford that. Donatello, can you take this thing up to the surface?"

Donatello shrugged. "Sure, I don't see why not. If Bebop and Rocksteady can drive one, I should be able to figure it out." He put his bo stick into the sheath on his back and entered the module.

"Raphael, go along with him," added Leonardo. "Just in case there's trouble up there."

"Got it, chief." Raphael gave him a mock salute, then hopped on board behind his brother. He put his sai away in his belt, then sat down next to Donatello at the front of the module.

Donatello gave him a grin. "You all set?" Raphael nodded. "All right then. Hold on. Not sure how steady this ride is gonna be." He hit the clearly labeled "Door Close" button, then hit the "Drill" button. The large bit at the front began spinning, and Donatello pushed the stick forward. Immediately, the module leapt and began burrowing its way towards the surface. The ride was extremely bumpy, but it wasn't more than a few seconds before they had climbed up onto the surface.

Letting out his breath, Donatello said, "Well, that wasn't so bad." He hit the door release, and they stepped out of the module into the alleyway.

Raphael walked behind the module, glanced down the hole they had created and smirked. "Not bad at all. Looks like you cut four water mains, the steam line, and sideswiped a subway tunnel. And this alleyway is completely blocked now. But hey, at least it's not stuck in the sewers anymore."

"Listen, you..." Donatello stopped short and frowned. "You hear that?"

Raphael listened. It was indistinct, but it certainly was getting louder. "Yeah, what is it?"

"No clue. Let's go find out." They cautiously made their way to the street and peered out.

"Holy..."

About a block away, walking towards them at a fair clip down the middle of the street was a large crowd of people. Almost all women, with a few men scattered in here and there. Raphael saw a few individual members as they stepped underneath a street light, and he could feel himself drawn to each and every one of them.

Even the guys, he realized with an additional pang of horror.

Raphael turned to Donatello, and although they didn't say anything, they didn't need to. Their expression said it all. They ran at top speed back to the module, just as the last of a thick liquid bubbled up into the hole behind it.

"Great," groaned Donatello. "Cork lava."

"Come on!" Raphael ran a bit further down the alleyway, stopping at a manhole cover. He fumbled a bit getting it off, but soon he and his brother were half-climbing, half-falling down into the sewers. They ran down the sluice until they came across Leonardo and Michelangelo. Michelangelo was using his flashlight to illuminate a tall column of rock where the module had tunneled up.

"The weirdest thing happened after you left..." started Leonardo.

"Not now! Back to the lair!" Donatello and Raphael ran by them at full speed, and Leonardo and Michelangelo quickly fell in behind them.

It took about a minute to get back to relative safety of the lair. Donatello immediately ran to his workstation and tripped the control that activated the lair's security system. They all listened as heavy metal grates closed into the sluices outside, and only then did they let out their collective breath.

"My sons, what is happening?" asked Splinter.

"Mary Sues," said Raphael simply.

"Hundreds of them," elaborated Donatello. "Coming down the street."

Leonardo waved everyone to the couch. Once everyone had sat down, he began pacing in front of them. "OK, let's try to figure out what we're up against," he said.

"We've got a bunch of clones attacking us," said Michelangelo.

"No," corrected Donatello. "None of them have attacked us. They've all been...over-friendly."

"And we've all felt...over-friendly towards them," said Raphael. "For whatever reason."

"And they're all named Mary Sue," added Michelangelo, like he couldn't believe he was adding that.

"One of them came up from the Technodrome," mused Leonardo. "So it looks like this is the handiwork of Shredder and Krang." Leonardo rubbed his chin for a second, then stopped pacing and snapped his fingers. "Donatello, you cracked into the Technodrome's computer once."

"Right."

"Can you do it again? Maybe find out what they're doing?"

Donatello shrugged. "I think so. They probably have some new protection up, but I should be able to get around it."

"Good - do it." Leonardo watched as Donatello ran back to his computer in the corner and began typing. Turning to Raphael, he said, "Were there really hundreds?"

"I think so," said Raphael. "There may have been a thousand. I didn't exactly stop to take a census."

There was a long silence, finally broken by Michelangelo. "So what do we do?"

"Wait to see what Donatello comes up with," Leonardo said, hoping he sounded more sure of himself than he did.

Apparently, he didn't, because Raphael immediately asked, "And if he doesn't find anything?"

"Or if they attack before he does?" added Michelangelo.

Splinter spoke up. "If that should occur, then you must attempt to fight them as best you can."

"Fight them?" repeated Michelangelo. "It took Leonardo all he had just to defeat one of them. How are we supposed to defeat a whole army?"

"Well, my sons," said Splinter simply. "It may be time to see how well I have trained you in the Art of War."

Leonardo said, "One thing's for sure. We can't look them in the eye. I don't know what they're doing to us, but the only way I could overpower her was by not looking at her."

"So we've got a thousand well-trained warriors headed our way, and the only way we can defeat them is by fighting them blind." Raphael smiled and cracked his knuckles. "Sounds like my kind of fight."

"Uh, guys?" Donatello's voice rose up from the back of the room. Splinter and the other turtles got up and joined him around the computer.

"You get in?" asked Leonardo.

"No trouble at all - they must be slipping on security."

"You find anything?"

"Oh, I found something," said Donatello. "It just doesn't make any sense."

"What is it?"

Donatello tapped the screen. "Pretty much what we thought. Krang and the Shredder got a cloning device up and running. But it's what they've cloned that doesn't make sense."

Raphael asked, impatiently, "Well, what are they cloning?"

Turning towards Raphael, Donatello said, "Mary Sues."

Raphael rolled his eyes. "We know that. But what are they?"

Donatello grabbed the mouse, and switched windows. "Well, that's where it starts getting weird. This is from Wikipedia. 'Mary Sue is a pejorative term for a fictional character who is portrayed in an overly idealized way and lacks noteworthy flaws. They are almost always based on idealized versions of the authors. Typically, characters most commonly labeled as "Mary Sues" are almost always physically attractive, and are set apart from others in the story by their unique and exceptional skills and traits.' That certainly sounds like what we're up against."

Michelangelo said, "Sounds like it."

Leonardo shook his head. "But wait a minute. If these are characters from stories, then wouldn't only the characters in the story find them so irresistible? Why are they having that effect on us?"

"That's the part that doesn't make any sense," insisted Donatello, clicking to yet another window. "I finally found out where he was getting these Mary Sues from. He's pulling them from stories about us."

"What?!" Even Splinter joined in on that word.

"I know - it doesn't make any sense. But it looks like the Technodrome has accessed an Internet that's different from ours. It's...I don't know. Another Internet, in another world, or dimension, or something. In that world, there's...well, there's lots of stuff about us."

"Like what?" said Michelangelo, confused.

"Stories, books, TV shows, movies, toys, games, you name it."

"All about us?" said Leonardo.

Donatello nodded. "I told you it didn't make any sense."

"A movie? About us?" said Michelangelo, trying to hide his excitement.

"Not now, Michelangelo," said Leonardo sternly. "Can you shut them down?"

"No such luck. Looks like he used the computer to give them their programming, but once he created them, the Mary Sues became autonomous. He's not controlling them anymore."

"So we're stuck fighting them?" said Raphael.

"Perhaps not," said Splinter. "Have you encountered a story in which...in which we are able to overcome these Mary Sues?"

"I only glanced at a couple," admitted Donatello. "But I didn't see one. That sort of goes against what these Mary Sues are all about. We're not supposed to overcome them. We're supposed to become enamored with them, and have them join our ranks."

"Y-yeah, let's not do that," suggested Raphael.

"Well, can we...make 'em...not like us?" asked Michelangelo hesitantly.

Leonardo turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

"Well, is there something we can do so they won't want to be with us anymore? So they'll turn around and go home?"

Splinter nodded. "Excellent reasoning, Michelangelo. Consider - Donatello, you stated that these Mary Sues are based upon the authors of these stories, correct?"

"Yeah..." Donatello said.

"Therefore, is there something about us - or, more precisely, is there something about our alternate selves that these authors do not like?"

Donatello rubbed his chin. "Hm. I don't know. I'd have to get into that alternate Internet and do some digging."

"Do so," urged Splinter.

A muffled thud caused them all to look up. "What's that noise?" asked Leonardo.

"It's been bad news the last two times tonight," said Raphael. "And call me a cynic, but I don't see that streak ending."

They heard the thud again. Leonardo drew his katana. "Probably not, but we'd best investigate. Donatello, stay here and keep looking. You two, come with me."

Leonardo led Raphael and Michelangelo towards the exit of the lair. "Remember," he cautioned. "Keep your eyes down. We're going to have to go in blind here." He slowly stepped out into the sluice, and immediately was hit by a wave of voices.

"There you are!"

"Leonardo!"

"...you're the cute one..."

"...two-sword technique..."

"...lead the others..."

"...further your training..."

"...the katana since I was six...

"...make the streets safe..."

"...sense of honor..."

"...Raphael doesn't understand..."

"...always been my favorite..."

"...leadership skills..."

Leonard quickly stole a glance up. A huge crowd of Mary Sues was leaning against the heavy metal grate, sticking their arms through, yelling.


	4. The Ending Part

Raphael and Michelangelo joined Leonardo out in the sluice. Immediately, the din grew even louder.

"Michelangelo!"

"Raphael!"

"Cowabunga!"

"Hothead!"

"Party dude!"

"...find your center..."

"...I totally understand you..."

"...skateboarding contract..."

"...such commitment..."

"...Leo's a jerk..."

"...party of the year..."

"...Can I hold your katana?"

"...I feel your pain..."

Leonardo grabbed Raphael and Michelangelo and dragged them back into the lair. Donatello and Splinter looked up from the monitor. "What's going on out there?"

"It's a veritable love fest," said Raphael. "And no, not in a good way."

"You find anything yet?" asked Leonardo.

"So far, not much. I've only stumbled across one thing that these alternate-world turtle fans don't like."

"What is it?"

"Venus."

Michelangelo cocked his head. "The planet?"

"No. The mutant ninja turtle."

"Venus the mutant ninja turtle," repeated Michelangelo.

"Venus the female mutant ninja turtle," said Donatello.

Michelangelo's eyes got wide. "There's a girl turtle?"

Donatello shook his head. "Not here. There. Apparently, they added a female turtle to...the TV show, I think. But it looks like nobody liked her."

"Why not?" said Michelangelo, smiling. "I'm pretty sure I would've liked her."

"Yeah, but you're not one of these fans." Donatello scrolled down the page and frowned. "It's no good, though. It's not like we've got a female mutant ninja turtle handy."

"Hey!" Michelangelo's eyes got wide. "What if I..."

"No!" Splinter and all three turtles spoke as one.

"What?"

Leonardo said, "No, you're not going to put on a dress, and try to convince these Mary Sues that you're...this Venus woman."

"Well, why not?"

Folding his arms, Leonardo said, "Because it never works is why not."

"Besides," said Raphael slowly. "We've kinda been meaning to talk to you about that. You seem to be dressing in drag an awful lot lately. It's starting to get creepy."

"Later, my sons, later," said Splinter. "We have a more pressing issue at hand."

Donatello shrugged. "Well, let's see what else I can dig up."

The dull thud hit, louder this time. "Hurry," suggested Raphael unnecessarily.

"Hm. This might be something." Donatello clicked on a link, stared wide-eyed at the screen, then burst out laughing. Even Splinter put his hand to his mouth to keep from laughing.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Guys, you are not gonna believe this." Donatello turned the screen so they could see, and instantly all three were laughing.

"You have got to be kidding," said Leonardo. "It's a joke, right?"

Donatello turned the screen back around and scanned the page. "Nope, it's no joke. Apparently, it actually happened. Well, it did over there in that universe."

Raphael shook his head. "Next time I think things can't get any worse here..." He tapped the top of the monitor. "I'll just think of this."

"So..." said Donatello a bit reluctantly. "Do we give it a try?"

Another loud thud resonated throughout the lair. "I don't think we've got a choice," Michelangelo pointed out.

"All right. Let me just print this stuff out..."

Leonardo shook his head. "You're not honestly suggesting..."

"Oh, come on, Leo!" said Michelangelo, suddenly excited. "It'll be fun! Good thing Mondo stashes his stuff here between rehearsals..." He headed towards the back of the lair, with Raphael and Leonardo following. He walked all the way to the rear and pushed a curtain aside, revealing a small alcove. "Let's see," he said. "One guitar, one bass, one keyboard..." He stopped, suddenly confused. "What was the other one?"

"Saxophone," said Donatello, coming up behind them, holding his printouts.

"We don't got one of those. Which of us gets that?"

Donatello grinned. "You."

"Aw, man! Bummer!" Michelangelo stamped his foot.

Raphael said, "So, where are we gonna get a saxophone at this time of night?"

"Well, I'll just have to make do with what we got." He ran back to his room, and emerged a few seconds later, grinning and holding up a kazoo.

"Wonderful," said Raphael.

Splinter came up to join them. "Presumably, you will not be needing my services."

"Not so fast, Sensei," said Donatello. "Ends up that other-world Splinter did sing a song in the show."

"I did? Or, rather, he did?"

Donatello held up the paper. "Alterno-world Internet don't lie."

Michelangelo reached into the alcove once more, grabbed a tambourine, and handed it to Splinter. "Here ya go."

"What is this for, my son?"

"First rule of rock 'n' roll, sensei," said Michelangelo, grinning. "If you can't play anything else, you get the tambourine." He handed the guitar to Raphael, the bass to Leonardo, and the keyboard to Donatello. Then he grabbed a couple small practice amps, and said, "Come on. We've got a show to put on."

It took awhile to plug everything in, but a few minutes later, all five of them stood near the entrance to the lair, instruments at the ready. "Everyone set?" asked Michelangelo loudly, in an attempt to be heard over the drone of the Mary Sues just outside.

Donatello held the small practice keyboard in his left hand, and turned it on. "As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

"Wait a sec," said Raphael, tapping a couple strings on his guitar, and turning the keys at the end of the neck. "I don't think this thing is tuned."

Leonardo looked exasperated. "Raph, who cares? We want them to hate us, remember?"

"Oh, right. Right."

Splinter held up his tambourine and shook it a bit to get everyone's attention. "My sons, please remember. Do not look at the Mary Sues. Keep your eyes down and your mind on the task at hand. If this does not work after one song, we must fall back and come up with another plan."

"Agreed," said Leonardo.

"Very well, then," said Splinter, smiling. "Let us rock and roll."

The five mutants marched out into the sluice, and the drone from the Mary Sues became a deafening roar. Michelangelo grinned but kept his eyes on the floor. He extended both his arms up in the air and held his hands out to the crowd. Once the uproar died down a bit, he said, "Ladies...and a couple gentlemen...we're pleased to announce our return to the stage!"

Donatello added, "The Coming Back Out of Our Shells Tour!"

Raphael screamed, "ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR!" then slammed his hand down on the guitar strings, wincing a bit at the loud discordant sound it made. Instantly, the other mutants leapt into the cacophony. Leonardo kept his head down and concentrated on trying to make the bass sound as horrible as he could. Splinter began slapping the tambourine against his open palm, and occasionally against his hip. Michelangelo began dancing around the sluice, tooting pieces of his favorite songs into his kazoo. Raphael made a futile attempt to play a recognizable tune, but soon gave up and just started shredding his hand across the strings, banging his head up and down. Donatello's fingers were far too large to play the keyboard with any skill, so he just randomly slapped his hand along its keys. While doing so, he yelled out the few lines from the songs that he remembered from the website.

_Out of our shells!  
We're coming out of our shells!  
You gotta fight to be free!_

_We're the turtles, you can count on us!  
No treaties after the war!_

After a couple minutes, Donatello heard the din lessening, and he glanced up at his brothers. They all slowly stopped playing and stared at each other. The sluice was eerily quiet, but none of them dared glance over at the grate.

"Did it work?" asked Michelangelo quietly.

Suddenly, a yell shot out from behind the grate. "I play concert piano! I can teach you, Donatello!"

Immediately, the first yell was joined by others.

"...that song was great!..."

"...needs a lot more guitar..."

"...get it on the radio..."

"...Raph, you rocked the place!..."

"...I think Leo should sing lead..."

"...rock-and-roll kazoo! Yeah!..."

"...we'll get you into the studio..."

"…get a video filmed…"

"...I didn't know Splinter knew how to play the tambourine!..."

"...I know that guy from the Fray - they need an opening act..."

Dejected, the turtles made their way back into the lair. Raphael unslung the guitar from around his neck. "I broke a string - Mondo's gonna kill me."

"Man, I thought we were on to something," said Michelangelo. "What went wrong?"

"Well, I don't like to point fingers," said Raphael. "But Leonardo was about half a beat off through most of that number."

Leonardo flung the bass strap over his head and snapped, "That was on purpose!" He stopped when he noticed Splinter, who was walking as if in a daze over to the couch. Splinter sat down and stared at the tambourine in his hands with an odd look on his face.

"Sensei?" asked Leonardo. "What is it?"

Slowly, Splinter looked up, a slight twinkle in his eye. "A ninja is one who has excelled in the martial arts. Who can defeat a ninja?"

"Only another ninja," said all four turtles, who had heard this lesson before.

Splinter nodded. "A Mary Sue is, by their very definition, perfect in almost every way. Who can defeat a Mary Sue?"

"Only another Mary Sue?" hazarded Leonardo.

"Precisely, my son."

"But where are we gonna get our own Mary Sues?" asked Michelangelo.

Splinter didn't answer, but instead simply extended his arm out towards the lair exit.

"Those ones?" asked Leonardo. Suddenly his eyes got wide. "Oh! So, instead of trying to turn them against us, we should turn them against each other?"

Splinter nodded. "I believe that may be our best hope."

Raphael scratched his head. "So how do we do that?"

"It would appear that these Mary Sues would like nothing more than to be...with us, in one way or another," said Splinter, somewhat uncomfortably. "What if we were to make it clear that we would be pleased to allow one...and only oneMary Sue to join our ranks?"

"So you want them to...fight over us?" said Donatello, somewhat incredulously. "Don't you think that sounds kinda...far-fetched?"

Raphael, smirking, said, "Well, admittedly, it's not a normal suggestion like - and I'm picking an example completely at random here, Donatello - attempting to defeat them by forming a band."

It grew quiet, other than the continuing yells from the Mary Sues outside. Leonardo finally said, "So, should we try this?"

"No harm in trying," said Michelangelo. "Let's give it a whirl."

Splinter once more led them out of the lair, head bowed. Once into the tunnel, he held up his hands to appeal for quiet. "Please, please, all of you! Listen!" Once it grew quiet, Splinter smiled, eyes still closed. "Thank you," he began. "We greatly appreciate all of you coming here to offer your assistance in our lives. My sons and I have been discussing the current situation, and we have come to the conclusion that we should no longer refuse aid when it is so kindly offered. However, as you know, we live simply, in rather close quarters here. For this reason, we have decided that there is only room here for one of you. We will leave it to you to decide which of you would be the best candidate to aid us in our quest. We will leave you alone to discuss it amongst yourselves, and we will return soon to hear of your decision." Splinter then stepped back into the lair, followed by all the turtles, except for Michelangelo.

"Let's face it, girls," Michelangelo said, striking a muscleman pose. "There's only so much Michelangelo to go around." He put his hands behind his head, and thrust his hips towards the crowd. "So who's it gonna be? Who will claim this prize as their very own? Who will get to...yipe!" Michelangelo's pitch was cut short when Leonardo reached out and yanked him back into the lair.

"Are you insane?" asked Leonardo.

Michelangelo grinned, a bit embarrassedly. "Just trying to whoop them into a frenzy. Y'all know I'm the cute one."

"That's not what I heard," said Raphael, smirking.

"From who?" challenged Michelangelo. The rest of his rejoinder was drowned out by the growing din from outside. The murmurs had turned to conversation, which had become an argument, which was now sounding like an out-and-out screamfest. Within moments, the screams and shouts were joined by the sounds of battle - punches landing, sharp cries of pain. These were soon joined by yet another, more unfamiliar sound - a bizarre squishing sound. The turtles looked at each other in confusion, until suddenly Leonardo's eyes got wide.

"That's them...reverting..." he said lamely. Raphael blinked once, then took one step towards the exit. "No!" Leonardo grabbed his brother by the arm. "Don't go out there. Let them...finish."

It was a strange sensation for all five of them, standing still, letting a battle take place without participating. The sounds grew to an almost unbearable pitch, but then began diminishing, and eventually died away completely. After a moment's pause, Leonardo strode out into the sluice. A few seconds later, they heard him yelling.

"Donatello, open the grate!"

Donatello ran back to his control panel and shut off the security system. There were a few more sloshy sounds, and then Leonardo re-emerged from the sluice. Blue goo covered his legs up to his knees, and there was more on his katana.

"A few stragglers, but they didn't put up much resistance," he said simply.

"So...that's it?" asked Michelangelo. "It's over?"

"Looks that way," said Raphael.

Donatello walked over to his computer and began typing. "There. I just shorted out Shredder's computer. That should break the connection to that other internet."

Michelangelo looked hurt. "Aw, I wanted to see that movie!"

Splinter shook his head. "I understand, my son. But to leave this portal open would not have been worth the risk."

Leonardo stared down at his katana, then at his legs. "I'm gonna go hit the shower."

As he walked off, Raphael said, "I wish there was a way to get Shred-head back for this one."

Splinter smiled a bit. "Do not be vindictive, my son. Oftentimes, evil is its own punishment."

-----

"No! Leave me alone!" yelled the Shredder to the crowd gathering around him.

"…a third-degree black belt in four martial arts..."

"...took three straight championships..."

"...I understand your pain..."

"...well-versed in the biology of reptiles and amphibians..."

"...can I wear your mask?"

"...always wanted a Foot uniform..."

"...look great in black..."

Helplessly, Shredder turned to Krang. "This was all your doing!" he accused. "Why didn't you filter out the evil Mary Sues?"

Krang's body helplessly held up its hands, then turned back to the throng surrounding him.

"I can build you a _much_ better body..."

"...working on a pan-dimensional portal..."

"...evil schemes are my specialty..."

"...I love _John and Marsha_..."

"...pink's my favorite color..."

"...always loved a man with a brain..."

From across the room, Rocksteady watched the hullabaloo, scratching his head. He hadn't been involved in this plan at all, and wasn't really sure who all these people were who wanted to help them so much. But he decided it wasn't his concern. He turned and headed down the corridor, hoping to get some headway on his chores for the day. Rocksteady stopped when he heard footsteps behind him. Turning around, he spied a short skinny guy who had followed him out.

"Whadda _you_ want?" asked Rocksteady suspiciously.

The guy shrugged. "Thought you might want to talk or something."

Rocksteady was about to snap at him when he had a thought. "Ya wanna help me power-wash th' Technodrome?"

"Sure. That sounds like fun."

Rocksteady grinned. "Cool!"

-----

I do need to give props to Rick, who came up with the great title "TMNT II - The Secret of the Sues". I finally decided that that gave too much away, and so, with heavy heart, rejected it. Still, killer title.


End file.
